


All of this has been hard

by gghosttowne



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23429833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gghosttowne/pseuds/gghosttowne
Summary: TRESPASSER SPOILERS I GUESS?!!?here, have a very dramatic and upsetting version of how the inquisitor lost his arm!violence isn't described but the inquisitor is in a lot of painpossible body horror? but I don't think really
Relationships: Iron Bull/Male Lavellan, Male Inquisitor/Iron Bull
Kudos: 36





	All of this has been hard

“Kadan-“ a voice started before breaking off.

Stepping through the eluvian had been hard. All of this had been hard. Cyran tripped over his own feet as soon as he crossed the threshold, falling to his knees before his companions, clutching an arm that wouldn’t respond. He forced himself up to look at his vhenan, his strong fearless companion who only stared back. Cyran had never been able to read Bull well, it didn’t bother him, they would always talk when the time was right, but right now he could see that eye was staring at him like he was fragile, broken.

“C’mon inky, uh you’re startin to scare us all a bit, yeah?” The voice was garbled, far away but not, the words didn’t reach him.

A hand placed itself on his shoulder and he moved for his dagger with a hiss and sharp teeth bared, but his arm didn’t, wouldn’t. He faltered, grabbing with his nondominant hand he pulled the dead arm up. That’s when he saw it. His fingers crumbled slowly. Turning to dust before they even hit the ground.

“…cut it off,” his voice was empty.  _ He was empty _ . Seconds passed before he turned back to the eye that hadn’t moved away from him, “CUT IT OFF!” he yelled but didn’t, voice scratchy vision blurry with tears while he waved the offending arm forward.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly before another reached forward. The fight left him.

“You’ll let me have a look at that I hope.” The attempt at the usual snark was almost impressive if you couldn’t see the way the vints lips were turned down, moustache twitching slightly as he took grip of the crumbling arm. Dorian wasn’t a healer, he  _ could  _ heal to an extent, but this was beyond that. Most of the inquisitor’s fingers were gone, his other hand fumbling to move the sleeve, to rip it off, he was starting to get frantic again. “Bull, you oaf listen for once!”

Words kept garbling around, Dorian was clearest behind him, there was a higher-pitched sputtering somewhere to the side, Sera, he guessed. Everything drowned out as he continued the task of removing the sleeve, fumbling over flimsy buttons until his shirt was hanging off and his arm was bare. Distantly he was aware that he should be listening to his companions but all he could focus on was the once green marks that spread across his skin as if they were a vine had turned black. It stretched beyond his elbow, stray marks spreading towards his shoulder.

A deeper voice had started far away, quickly approaching until it was in front of him, he couldn’t lift his eyes. A hand placed on his cheek. It was the gentlest sensation on his skin,

yet it burned in a way no other had. He moved into the hand pushing into Bull’s touch, tears finally spilling out, a large thumb wiped them away tracing the spots his skin faded in.

“Cyran look at me,” even with unfocused eyes, anyone could make out the horns and grey skin. So, he looked, he couldn’t disobey even if he wanted to. “Scale of 1-10 how bad is it? It’s going on its own, but you need to make this choice yea?” Bull was always like this. Practical. He’d lay things as they were, except for the times he didn’t. Compartmentalise, put things away for later.

“Hurts.” And it did. The arm was dead, but it still hurt, he half a hand left down to where the thumb joined, and it was agony. Cyran felt like he should be screaming. His voice hurt so much he thought maybe he had been. It was hard to tell anymore.

“I’ve got you,” Bull's thumb was still stroking his cheek, big calloused hands cradling his face, Bull’s brow was pinched and you could see the pain on the qunari’s face. The expression rang alarms in Cyrans head. This wasn’t right, his love was in pain and he couldn’t fix it. That’s what hurt the most, the feeling of being helpless, useless. He was so tired, all he could do was place his good hand on top of Bull’s. 

Then he was being moved, squished against an almost bare chest and held in strong arms, “I’ve got you Kadan, I’m here to put you back together.” There was a kiss to his hair before he was lowered to the ground.

“Sera hold him down, Dorian,” a pause as Bull slowly moved to stand, “try to heal whatever’s left.”

“Oi! You can’t be serious right? This is proper mad yeah?”

An exasperated sigh before, “Sera, I believe we should try our best to help our dear inquisitor.”

And then Bull was above him, greatsword in hand. A strange pride bubbled in him at the realisation that  _ he  _ had requisitioned the weapon, pink just how the qunari wanted. His arm was pulled out, away from the rest of his body.

“If you miss…” Dorian muttered the rest. Another strange bubble of pride. The two didn’t get along all the time, it was nice for the bickering to stop. They would probably never be good friends, that was okay. They were his friends though. Hands pushed into his shoulders,

shoving him deep into the ground. Sera was a good friend too, his closest probably though he would never dare say that to her. She ended up being right about all this ‘elfy shite’ in the end though.

The great sword was raised. Bull Watched him for a moment. He looked so pained. Cryan wanted to reach out, be held again and hold him. Wanted this shit to stop happening. But he didn’t. And it wouldn’t. Life has been hard.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

A scream. And then darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an awful person


End file.
